


Nights Like These

by livefree_13



Category: Persona 4
Genre: Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, multiple POVs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-07 23:10:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20825372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livefree_13/pseuds/livefree_13
Summary: When you're at the depths of your need, nights like these can't be helped.





	Nights Like These

**Author's Note:**

  * For [harenchiou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/harenchiou/gifts).

> this is a belated little ficlet for my buddy [harenchiou](https://twitter.com/harenchiou) (<-twitter), who is a really great guy and an amazing artist! (please check him out if you haven't already!) 
> 
> i couldn't decide who's POV i wanted to write this from, so i chose both! please note that the line breaks are switches in POV from Yu/Souji and Yosuke.

That night was business as usual, for Yosuke. 

He’d worked a late shift (something that was becoming a trend lately, he noticed) and by the time he’d gotten home, he was too beat to fire up his gaming console or finish off his homework or even eat. He decided, per usual, to take a long soak in the shower before crashing. Ironically, it was hard for him to fall asleep after a late shift. Fitfully, anyway. And not only did showers help him accomplish a nice successive few hours of it, but tonight, he needed the privacy. It had been a long, frustrating day full of demanding customers and he longed for the warm water running down his skin, washing it all away. 

The house was quiet and Teddie had passed out already. It was just him in their steamy family bathroom, peeling off his sweat-damp clothes and stepping into the spray of hot water. He stood there for several minutes, letting the water beat against his neck and back, closing his eyes against the sensation traveling down his spine, before finally working up the energy to move again. 

The first thing he did after combing back his soaked bangs was, of course, tug at his cock. The shower was the only place in the house he could ever do it anymore, and with maybe only one or two exceptions, this act was never contingent on how tired he was. He kept tugging until he was fully hard and he was left with no choice but to keep going. The water beating against his skin made his muscles nice and loose so he stretched his neck, releasing a tense sigh. Then, he got to work. 

* * *

Yu was home alone that night, and that was also pretty typical. His parents were in town but had been in engagements for most of the week; Yu expected the same to be true of tomorrow’s schedule but he hadn’t bothered checking. He’d done a few things around the house, mostly dishes and bit of tidying, and then heated up the leftover stir-fried pork and veggies that he’d made yesterday (and which he’d forgotten in the fridge this morning) for his dinner. He’d seriously considered studying, since he wasn’t exactly exhausted, but ultimately decided to bathe and hit the sack. It was already late and he’d been less of a morning person these past few weeks. 

He made the shower quick. The exhaustion hit him midway through and he half-assed the remainder of his bedtime routine so that he could crawl into his sheets that much sooner. Or, he _ thought _he was tired. Once he’d pulled on his comfy clothes and settled in, he couldn’t seem to get comfortable. He sighed. He could tell, already and even with how tired he realized he was, that it would take awhile to finally fall asleep. He should have fixed himself some tea . . . 

He squirmed beneath his covers and let out a long breath. The clock in the hallway ticked. After a while, he could feel himself starting to relax, nearer to the edge of sleep than awake. But there was also something else pulling at him, keeping him at the edge. A mental itch. 

* * *

Yosuke started off with the basic stuff, all of the good shots from the magazines he hoarded in his youth which had kept him going until he got his PC. Many of them still did the trick, surprisingly. They got him to a good stopping point until he had to move on to the more recent stuff: the video he watched last week of a girl going down on a guy. He rarely ever got lucky enough to find full videos since he couldn’t exactly subscribe to this stuff at 18, and he had to take what he could get. 

He hadn’t paid much attention to the girl in that specific video; her eyelashes were too long and fake-looking and they’d distracted him. Instead, he thought of her mouth over the guy’s cock, the sound of his soft moans from beyond the camera view. He let out another heavy breath. 

* * *

Before Yu quite realized it, he was tenting his pajama bottoms. His mind hadn’t been wandering or anything, so he was a little surprised when he felt the pressure and reached his hand down to confirm it for himself. He didn’t frequently do this, and it might have explained why he’d felt so restless. It must have been a while since he’d done this . . . he truly couldn’t remember. 

He succumbed to the physical need easy enough, burying his face in his pillow and pulling himself out. His body was still protected from any breezes by the bedsheets, and the air beneath them was already growing warm and a little damp. He dipped his fingers lower inside his pants to smooth over his balls and the spot behind them. That usually helped get him harder and made the experience a little quicker. Something about the nerve-endings down there; they were really sensitive. 

He played with himself like that for a while before tugging at the head of his dick, feeling the foreskin slide forward and back against the wet head. He heaved a sigh into his pillow.

* * *

The memory of the moans was doing it for him, along with the memory of the guy’s cock sliding between those wet lips. Now that he was really into it, he used his other hand to massage his balls and the space behind them, rubbing the little spot back and forth and making sure to cup his balls in his palm as he did it, rubbing them a little while he was at it. Doing it two-handed was always way better than one-handed, and once he'd realized it he'd never gone back. 

He pulled at his cock with a gentle twisting motion, watching his foreskin go up and down in time with his short, stuttering strokes. The sensations were compounding, making his breath fall heavy and his skin tingle. He was in deep now, into the delves of his arousal. Nothing could break him out of this fog, not a bang on the door, not a shout of his name. 

So he closed his eyes, and he thought of Yu’s face.

* * *

Yu usually relied on the feeling of masturbation to get him to the end of it; he didn’t regularly look at porn. Doing so just left him feeling empty, and unsatisfied. He always assumed that the anonymity of the porn atmosphere unsettled him, but if he were being honest, he couldn’t put his finger on it. Something that made his dick hard and something that _ turned him on _ didn’t seem to be able to fit inside the same video, or magazine, or photoshoot, so he had practically given up looking for it. 

Because on the one hand, he had available to him a world full of kinks and positions that could offer up any combination of lewd acts imaginable -- and on the other, he had Yosuke, his poor best friend, who had _ no _idea he fit so well into such a dark niche in Yu’s mind. 

“Yosuke” he whispered, to his empty room. He started jerking himself faster.

* * *

Yu’s face wasn’t doing anything in particular, not at first. Eventually, he opened his mouth, and Yosuke was feeding his cock through the part in his soft lips. Yu’s mouth was like that woman’s mouth, big and supple, and knew exactly what it was doing as it took him in. He focused, hard, on imagining the soft flutter of Yu’s lashes against his cheeks (his _ real _lashes, not the fake ones the girl was wearing). He brought into focus, through the many memories of his friend that he’d created over the years, the look and part of his hair, soft against Yosuke’s fingers as his mouth dipped over Yosuke’s length. 

Yosuke imagined that it felt hot and warm and wet. He wanted to hold Yu’s hair, wanted to whisper his name. He might have already done it, alone in the shower as his fist quickly pumped his cock. He thought about the look on Yu’s face as he pulled off Yosuke’s dick and flicked his tongue over the head, how flushed and full of lust it would look. The silver in his eyes would smoulder. 

* * *

Yu thought about the hot summer days in Inaba, when the two of them would lounge on the banks of the Samegawa. That was one of his favorite settings. The heat of the sun bearing down on them, the sheen over Yosuke’s skin tantalizing to his parched throat. Yu had always wanted to dip his face into the curve of Yosuke’s neck, lick up that salt and bite down on its tang. He wanted their hands to travel and for his own to wind up rubbing at the zip of Yosuke’s tight red pants. 

He always imagined his friend getting hard right away, a choked plea not making its way out of his mouth before Yu grabbed it with his own. 

Sometimes, on desperately lonely nights, Yu couldn’t get far enough to have Yosuke even come out of his pants -- but tonight was different. He had more time to imagine the give in Yosuke’s zipper as he tugged it down, and the hard, beating length he brought out to squeeze gently in his palm. Yosuke would like that, the feel of Yu’s hands on him. He liked Yu’s hands; he’d said so before. No way Yosuke would push him off and yell at him now. He would only surrender, shudder out his name between loud panting, beg for more. 

And Yu would give it to him. 

* * *

Yosuke could never quite get himself to come at that point anymore, as much as his body needed it. Lately, he found the fantasy ended up with him pushing Yu back and Yosuke scrambling over his body, popping off the buttons to his button-down as he ripped it open, carving a path down Yu’s torso with his teeth and tongue and lips. 

Yu was never wearing a belt here, so all Yosuke had to do was tug open each flap of his pants and get him free and into Yosuke’s hands. And Yu would look so gratefully -- so _ encouragingly _ \-- at him, his open mouth at a complete loss for words with how _ good _ Yosuke’s hands on him felt. He would gasp and cry his name and beg for more. And Yosuke would make Yu come, would make him come _ so hard _ that his eyes would slam shut and he would swear. 

Yosuke would swear, too, as he came in his own hand. Watched it spill over and run down into the shower drain. The pounding in his ears deafened his own panting as his skin flared with pleasure, as he didn’t stop pumping, because Yu’s face was still in his mind. 

* * *

Yu could never tell the same story at that point. Sometimes he would watch Yosuke’s orgasm pour out over his hand and t-shirt. Sometimes Yu would look down and see both of them, out of their pants and coming at the same time. Either one was always too much for him. 

He tensed and spilled into his own hand, grunting out Yosuke’s name into his pillow, the sound far away from the ears of his friend. His body wracked with tremors for several long, glorious seconds as he thought about the look of pure bliss on his friend’s face. And Yu could still taste his skin, still tug it between his teeth. Yosuke would even let him kiss his lips. Gentle and wet beneath the summer sun. 

* * *

Yosuke had to come back to himself pretty quickly. He used to indulge in that moment a little more, when the fantasy was still a novelty he could weave over and over without guilt because of how deliciously private it was. But after a while, the guilt always caught up to him. He couldn’t help the fantasies, not really (not that he’d given it a good college try, or anything), but thinking about it afterwards chased the remnants of his orgasm away too fast. 

It was a sobering thing -- to realize how alone you were. How far away what you wanted was. How impossible was the ultimate dream. Yosuke wasn’t strong enough yet to completely face that. Maybe he would be one day but, until then, all he had was nights like these. And he would take what little he could get.

* * *

The warmth Yosuke left on his lips lasted for hours. Yu hadn’t known what pleasure was to others, if this was normal or extraordinary. Yu chose not to dissect it. The longer he stayed there, by the banks of the Samegawa, the more his pillow began to smell like the overgrown grass, like Yosuke’s clothes, the scent of his shampoo. It was the only place he could see Yosuke smile at him like _ that_, tender and loving, just for him. 

This delicate, quiet space was all theirs, tucked beneath the sun and framed by the swaying grass, the gentle sound of water at their heels. Yu could sleep like that, against him--and he did, against the warmth he radiated, slipping away to the sound of Yosuke’s voice humming in his ear. 

* * *

The next evening, Yu was turning over dinner on his stove when his phone started ringing. It was Yosuke, and he turned the fire off at once and moved the pan off the burner because Yosuke did not call him out of the blue. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, partner,” Yosuke sighed, his voice gravelly over the receiver. “Sorry, I know you’re probably busy but . . . can you talk? It’s, um . . . important.” 

Yu glanced at his dish dying in its pan on the stovetop -- simmering fish in hot, buttery oil. 

He turned around and made his way into his living room. 

“Of course I can talk.” 

**Author's Note:**

> i threw the happy ending in at the last minute bc it was too bittersweet otherwise. you're welcome.


End file.
